


all that she wanted.

by KittyEmz



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Mental Instability, Past Abuse, Past Violence, Remnants of Despair (Dangan Ronpa)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:34:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24822430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyEmz/pseuds/KittyEmz
Summary: From young, Mikan Tsumiki had always been told that it’s her fault, and that she deserved the abuse she was given.She didn’t stop even once to wonder why none of her other classmates were treated the same way. Didn’t pause to realize that it was unfair how nobody else received such discrimination.Her life revolved around her childhood abuse, and she was fine with it. Didn’t raise a single complaint; after all, she’s lucky to be even noticed by her classmates! She should be thankful to be given so much attention. It’s better to be treated badly, than to be completely ignored, right?
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	all that she wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> //spoilers for sdr2!//  
> also, trigger warnings for abuse/bullying/violence, and, like, one line that mentioned sexual assault . first time posting :]

From young, Mikan Tsumiki has always been told that it’s her fault, and that she deserved the abuse she was given.

She didn’t stop even once to wonder why none of her other classmates were treated the same way. Didn’t pause to realize that it was unfair how nobody else received such discrimination. 

Her life revolved around her childhood abuse, and she was fine with it. Didn’t raise a single complaint; after all, she’s lucky to be even _noticed_ by her classmates! She should be thankful to be given so much attention. It’s better to be treated badly, than to be completely ignored, right?

* * *

Mikan Tsumiki feared loneliness.

Although, “ _feared_ ” might be a bit of an understatement. Mikan Tsumiki abhorred the thought of being alone; it made her shake in dread, filled her with a disturbing resolve to avoid it by any means possible. 

It didn’t matter how much abuse she was put through- no matter how many cigarettes they burned against her skin, no matter how many times her hair was forcefully cut-- so long as people acknowledged her existence. She’d pay for her bullies’ debts, and let them use her as a target for their dart games, as much as she had to, just to avoid being lonely. She’d put herself through anything; after all, she deserved it, didn’t she? A classmate as pathetic and annoying as her… It was the least she could do, really- submitting to her bullies’ every whim wasn't asking for much, from a loser like her.

Mikan Tsumiki craved attention, sought the satisfaction and happiness of having her existence acknowledged. Loved the fact that people noticed her enough to splash her with mud when she passed by. Absolutely adored how she was attractive enough for them to force her to strip. Such an honour, really. She’s such a lucky girl, isn’t she?

Even after she gained understanding in human psychology, she didn’t stop once to consider that maybe she, too, needed help. Were her excessive apologies, her hazardously low self-esteem, and constant mental breakdowns not evident red lights? But, well-- did it matter? Mikan Tsumiki’s mental health-- _Mikan Tsumiki’s_ mental health, being of any importance? How laughable; what a joke indeed. Her eyes would light up and curl into crescents at the very prospect, ignoring that slight twinge of hope in her chest. She’s sure that if she did matter, her classmates would have treated her better. They were nice, respectable members of society, after all, and wouldn’t hurt a girl for no reason-- clearly, she deserved to be treated that way.

That’s why she doesn’t bat an eye when students of _Hope’s Peak_ _Academy_ don’t treat her the best, either. Hiyoko calls her attention-seeking and accuses her of wanting pity, when she falls into embarrassingly lewd poses. Fuyuhiko threatens to sell her to a whorehouse. She doesn’t make many friends, but, well-- she’s extremely fortunate for _Hope’s Peak_ to have acknowledged her, and have let her enter their school.

Truly, Mikan Tsumiki has difficulty accepting that she’s a student of _Hope’s Peak_ . Ultimate Nurse? Just from her experience in treating her own wounds when she was younger? She really was lucky, after all. She wouldn’t have been able to feel the pure, unadulterated satisfaction that she gets from having control over whole _lives_ , otherwise. Thank the lucky stars, really, that she was bestowed upon the role of _Ultimate Nurse_. 

The innocent, compassionate desire to help others spiraled into a borderline psychopathic need to be able to assert dominance over the weak. To have so much control and to have the lives of living, breathing _people_ in her hands. She relished in her newfound power, indulging in how much her sickly, helpless patients depended on her. Is this what her bullies felt? A smile forms on her lips as her fingers curl around a syringe, tracing her thumb over its smooth, piercingly sharp metal-- really, why hadn’t she gotten into this whole nursing thing earlier?

Once in a while, she stands by the side, strokes her hands through her unevenly cut hair, and ponders about how her childhood bullies are doing. As the world breaks down in chaos around her, as the rest of the Remnant of Despairs wrack terror, she pauses to wonder whether her bullies are aware of what they’ve indirectly done.

Her shoulders shake and her eyes scrunch up as she laughs- a rare, terrifying sound reverberating, fearful eyes darting towards her. Oh, God, there was no way her childhood bullies could’ve seen this coming! A weak, pathetic creature such as her, a Remnant of Despair? 

Wielding an almost comically large syringe in hand, she steps back into battle alongside her fellow Remnants, absolutely reveling in the pained screams and cries for mercy. So much like the horror movies she’s seen, really. Did you know she’s always adored horror films? The blood, the gore, and the helpless victims… God, she feels so honoured to be able to witness it all in person. It’s so gratifying, knowing how much power she has over the lives of those around her, and she can’t believe how fortunate she is.

Her eyes brighten when she spots a few students from her high school-- yes, the same school her childhood bullies were from. The pure adrenaline rush and the unfiltered satisfaction is transcendent, and her eyes darken with a predatory acrimony. 

Sometimes, a brief thought flitters across her head, as blood spills by her own hands- Is she being petty, and has she gone too far? For a split second, she considers it- not for long, though, as unadulterated gratification courses through her veins. _They deserve it_ , she tells herself.

 _They deserve it, right? It’s all their fault, after all_.

Her grip on the syringe tightens as a nearby explosion tinges her hair. 

_...Right?_

She feels the faint touch of cigarettes burnt against her skin and the hesitation ebs away, as she grabs another screaming passerby. The bandages wrapped around her left arm feel way too tight-- _why are they so tight?_ \-- suffocating and plaguing her with the faint laughter of her ex-classmates. For a split second, she sees the deformed, ugly shapes they had drawn onto her skin. Feels their calloused, rough hands on her bruised arms, and the view from her tripped onto the ground flashes before her eyes.

 _That’s right_ , she thinks, tightening her grip around the neck of her newfound prey. _They deserve it_.

 _For breaking apart my childhood,_ she seethes, hearing nothing but the taunting, mocking laughter of children who didn’t know any better.

 _For wrestling my happiness away from me, for treating me inferior, for manipulating me into believing that it was all my fault--_ Her vision shakes and blurs over with long-repressed rage, cruel words ringing in her ears.

 _For stealing my innocence, for constantly humiliating and hurting me, when I didn’t deserve it._ Her eyes sting, and tears fall, as she drives her syringe straight into the neck of another crying, pleading soul. _I didn’t deserve it._

She thinks about the many mental breakdowns she had, the paralyzing anxiety and agony that coursed too often through her veins, and--

_I didn’t deserve it._

* * *

Mikan Tsumiki realizes, as she watches screaming citizens run from her, that all she ever wanted was a chance at innocent happiness.

Not the twisted, borderline masochistic joy she got from being maltreated, from being acknowledged by her classmates. Not the relishment and power from having sickly, helpless lives in her hands. Not the inexplicable devotion and adoration she had for her beloved. Not the sadistic, psychopathic exhilaration she received from wrecking terror and shredding lives apart.

Her fingers clench around the syringe in her palm, and a tear slips.

Mikan Tsumiki just wanted to be happy. 

**Author's Note:**

> //dr3 spoilers!!//  
> mikan saved kirigiri's life, and she still doesn't get enough recognition? :(( poor baby


End file.
